Survivor
by RedVoid
Summary: She didn't remember who she was or how she ended up there. Only one objective drove her actions: survival. Then a man came, with a camera in one hand and a knife in the other. He smiled at her and she could feel he was not trustworthy, that his intentions for her were anything but pure. His name was Stefano Valentini and once upon a time she fell in love with him. StefanoxWoman
1. Chapter 1: Fresh Canvas

**So… A little something I wrote at 3am, because of course my first creative peak in months would come at such an ungodly hour, when I had to wake up early to get lots of stuff done on the following day. -.-**

 **Ranting aside, it's just something that came to mind pretty much out of nowhere for the Survivor Woman in Chapter 3 of The Evil Within 2.**  
 **I changed one little thing in her story because I thought it made more sense for her to run from a horde of Lost than to actually stick around with a man who she didn't remember while he had fits of paranoia until he also became a Lost. Don't get me wrong, I think Anima gave a very nice touch to the game's atmosphere, but considering the woman's predicament... I didn't buy that she'd stick around for so long. XP**

 **Now, is this a stand alone or will I actually do something with this? No idea. Only time will tell.**  
 **But I do hope you enjoy this… drabble? One-shot? Teaser? Honestly, I don't know what the heck this is. XP**

 **Warning: this was written in 20 minutes at 3am without a beta, and I'm not a native english speaker so errors are bound to happen. I might need to re-write this later… Also: blood and gore. :)**

 **Enjoy!**  
 **Kisses,**

 **RedVoid**

* * *

 _"Run! I'll hold them back! Just go!"_

But she couldn't. Her body was frozen as she stared at the man - he was her husband, he told her, and something was wrong with their friends. they needed to _run_ \- with wide eyes that didn't understand what was happening.

They were in a house, locked inside what appeared to be a home office. The man was pushing against the only door there, fighting against... _creatures_ that could not be real. And he was screaming at her, angry and terrified, telling her to-

 _"_ -RUN! _"_

Suddenly the door burst, violently pushing the man to the ground as the creatures finally barged into the room. There were two of them; deformed, gory monsters that were humanoid in shape, but crazed animals at their core. Thirsty for violence and blood.

These homunculi of violence settled their gaze on the man and fell down on him with punches and kicks and _teeth_ , tearing him apart mouthful by mouthful in a spectacle of gore that made bile spurt from her mouth and stream down her neck until it reached the fabric of her sweater. In any other occasion she'd be disgusted with herself, but she was in such a state of shock that she didn't even register the digestive liquid making its way out of her mouth and down her neck.

One of the creatures must've smelled the foul scent though, for it whipped its misshapen head in her direction, fixing its only beady eye on her. The movement caused the blood - the man's blood. maybe _her husband's_ blood - that was cascading down its chin and neck to hit her face. And that, more than bile or vomit ever could, made the woman feel absolute disgust.

That disgust finally ground down the woman to what was happening before her, making her forget the confusion. Who she was? Who was that man? How did they end up here? And how could it be possible for such monsters to _exist_? None of that mattered at the moment, because as she looked into the monster's opaque, bloodthirsty eye something stronger possessed her being.

Survival instinct. _Flight_ instinct.

Like a last generation robot that had just finished booting for the first time in its existence, she moved with speed and precision. She didn't know exactly what she was doing, it was as if her brain was hard-wired to send the exact sequence of signals to her muscles in order to comply with its primary function: survive.

Without hesitation she turned around and jumped through the window.

* * *

She managed to lose the two monsters that killed the man in the backyard of the home, but almost as soon as she could feel relief at finally herself free of them, other creatures appeared in her way. At first they didn't see her and she took her chance to sneak through the streets of this small city that seemed to have been a wonderful place to live in, once upon a time. She didn't know where she was going - or even if there was a place for her to go - but she knew she had to keep moving and so she did. She was doing well, she told herself, she was moving smoothly and that was the best - the _only_ \- thing she could be doing right now.

But one misstep was all it took to end her luck.

She was being careful, oh-so careful with her surroundings, staring at anything that moved around her with rapt eyes, that she didn't realize that lying on the pavement in front of her was a bottle of red wine. The glass cylinder didn't break when she stepped on it, but it did make her lose her balance and dive into the floor. She cushioned her fall with her hands and turned her head out of reflex, but still hit her chin on the ground violently enough to make her yell out a curse.

She didn't see as much as she heard the horde of monsters around her twist their necks in her direction, letting out gurgles of attention before sprinting in her general direction.

Without sparing a look behind her or even to the sides, she jumped to her feet and started running as fast as she could. Past streets and backyards she went, ignoring the blood-chilling sounds coming from the monsters running after her, until she found a beacon of light staring at her, coming from a small house's open door, inviting her in with promises of refuge.

She ran to the house without a moment's hesitation and slammed the door with all her strength, pushing against it as she bolted and locked it.

For one second she felt safe, as if she had made it.

But then the door started to shake as one of the monsters slammed its fists on it time and time again, and it made her shake and tremble in fear as she looked all around her for an escape route. She found none; no backdoors or windows.

"What now? This can't be real, it can't. These monsters... They _can't_ exist."

Suddenly, the door stilled and there was silence and once again she felt the deceptive emotion that was relief threaten to bubble in her chest once again. And once again it faltered when the silence was broken.

 _"It's okay. I took care of them. Please open the door. I need to ask you a few questions."_

That voice... She didn't know it, but it was tranquil and reassuring, and it pulled at something inside her chest that urged her to comply with the man's request. He had questions and so did she. Maybe they could help each other?


	2. Chapter 2: A Painting's First Stroke

**So... you guys remember that I didn't know exactly what I was going to do with this? Well, I've made up my mind! :D**

 **I've decided to turn thislittle thing in a multi-chaptered fanfic and, since I just L-O-V-E the villains from TEW, it came as no surprise that, as I let my muse take me for a ride, I found myself writing a StefanoxWoman fic.** **More than that, this is a kind of AU Stefano fic! I know I don't usually write those but this flowed so naturally I couldn't help myself. =.=**

 **New warnings for this fic: smut in future chapters, which will be censored due to ff's rules (worry not though, I'll let you know where to find the full chapter when necessary). And adultery.**

 **Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! And let me know what you think about it ;D**

 **And thank you so much Ari Goddess of Night, TheBaffledBeef, Guest and SwordsgirlJackie for reviewing! :DDD**

 **Kisses,**

 **RedVoid**

 **PS: I know Sebastian tells the woman Lily is 7, but she was born in 2006 and the game came out in 2017, so I'm using this as reference for her age instead of what Sebastian said.**

* * *

 _"It's okay. I took care of them. Please open the door. I need to ask you a few questions."_

 _That voice... She didn't know it, but it was tranquil and reassuring, and it pulled at something inside her chest that urged her to comply with the man's request. He had questions and so did she. Maybe they could help each other?_

* * *

 _"If you need anything from the house go ahead and help yourself..."_

She had made that offer to the man - Sebastian. Sebastian Castellanos - even though the house was not hers and she needed the scarce supplies -only one half-loaded handgun and 4 rounds of ammo - it had to offer even more than he did. It was all she could give him in retribution for saving her life, but he didn't take it.

 _"You should hold onto these. Even if you don't leave the house, those things may come for you and if they do you need something to defend yourself. I wish I could help-"_

 _"No, don't worry about this. You already saved my life, Mister. You need to go and find your daughter."_

 _"Here. Take this."_

 _"What is it?"_

 _"It's a communicator. It belonged to a guy named Baker; he was one of the people investigating what's going on around here. I've already paired it up with mine. This way you can reach me if you need anything."_

 _"Thank you, Mister! I'll hold onto to it. If I see your daughter around I'll make sure to keep her safe with me and let you know."_

 _"Thanks. Appreciate it."_

* * *

She intended to stay locked in the house, she truly did. But there were no windows and she didn't want to risk missing Lily in case she did come around, so she kept the door slightly ajar and sat cross-legged on the floor, with the communicator laying against her thigh and the gun held tightly in her hands. Her eyes were wide and attentive, bouncing from creature to creature as they wandered the streets like she imagined the undead would.

She didn't know how long she remained in that position, watching her porch with attentive eyes. She moved her body seldom and just slightly, only when her body parts started to cramp from holding the same position for too long.

All the while she thought about herself and how she got there. There were small and unconnected fragments of memory in her mind and she had to find a way to piece them together; even if she didn't have enough to complete the whole picture. Half of it was better than nothing.

She remembered the Asian doctor lady and her questions. Remembered how deep they went for a simple sleep study and how uncomfortable they had made her feel about the whole situation. She had thought of leaving the study right away, but she needed the money they were offering too much to pass up the opportunity.

What did she need the money for...?

 _A debt? No, I'm not the kind of person who'd get indebted to a bank or another person. I'm just not. Or... at least I hope not. But what could make me so desperate to get the money? Oh, that's right..._

Rent. She needed to pay her rent. And her electricity and gas bill, and food and supplies. She _needed_ those supplies if she wanted to make it.

 _What supplies? Make **what**?_

She furrowed her eyebrows and thought hard, trying to focus on that little flash of information her brain had granted her. Those little words were almost nothing, but the harder she thought about them the more her brain gave her.

Unfortunately, it was nothing helpful. Only images that made little to no sense.

Black and white imaginaries of people's faces in their most diverse expressions of grief... dark hued landscapes that were too fantastical to be real, and shadows dancing together in a melancholic waltz. But also bright sketches of happy families with kittens and puppies, a warm dawn and an infinite dusk, and even more magical sceneries painted with thick multicoloured strokes.

All of that blended together in a whirlwind of colour and movement that left her dizzy and overwhelmed. There were tears streaking down her eyes as her heart contracted painfully in her ribcage. She felt, she felt _deeply_ , but she didn't understand.

Just as a tear escaped her eyes, they moved mechanically, following a sudden rush of action just outside her door.

 _Was that... the little girl?_

Blinking the tears out of her eyes, she stood up and barged out of the house, thanking God that those monsters seemed to have gone somewhere else for the moment. She was so dead-set on finding that small rush of pink that it didn't even strike her as odd that the creatures disappeared almost at the same time the little girl came forth. Maybe, in another occasion, she would've had found it suspicious, but as she was, desperate beyond belief to keep that little child safe - _only_ _eleven_ _, Sebastian said. I need to find her_ \- she could only focus on the footprints in front of her.

And in the unnatural terror that was now gripping her heart.

She wouldn't deny, she had been very afraid of those monsters before, but it was nothing compared to the emotion that now seized her. This fear... it was not the fear of death, but the fear of evil. It was _horror_. It was as if she was a little girl, terrified of the bogeyman.

Then, she saw the flash of pink dash from behind a tree, trying to increase the distance between them.

 _There she is!_

"Please, don't run! I won't hurt you!"

The woman felt how desperate her voice was, breaking with fear for the little girl and herself, and irrationally hoped that Lily would somehow realize her emotions and just stop running, but the little girl only kept going, across streets and backyards with a speed that surprised the woman. Even with her shorter legs, Lily managed to keep the distance between them.

"Please! You're Lily, right?! I want to help you!"

* * *

Lily hesitated at hearing her name, slowing down to a trot as she stared over her shoulder at the woman following her. She was pretty if not for the blood-caked bruise on her chin, and she had kind blue eyes that let her see and feel everything she was feeling. This woman... she was unlike many of the others inhabitants of Union. Her emotions overflowed from her in candid waves, allowing the girl - _Core_ \- to easily tap into her intentions and feelings.

Fear, worry, confusion, misplacement... loneliness.

Lily herself was too scared and too young to understand what those emotions really were or how one could feel everything all at once but she could feel that, beneath all that bad feelings there was something warm in that woman that, if her vocabulary allowed, she'd classify as maternal but at the moment could only see as comforting.

At last, Lily stopped and allowed the woman to finally catch up with her. Both pair of blue eyes were filled with tears and fear, but when they met a little bit of light managed to twinkle in them.

Next thing she knew, Lily had ran to the woman, burying her face in her belly as her body shook in silent sobs.

"It's okay." The woman whispered soothingly, holding her tighter than necessary but not nearly as tight as Lily wanted to be held. "I'm with you now. Come, let's go back to my place. It's safer there."

* * *

The woman walked warily back to 344 Cedar Ave. one hand holding Lily's and another holding her gun, ready to shoot at any moment. However, the strange phenomenon she had failed to observe earlier was making itself known again: while Lily was around, no monster came close to them.

 _How is it possible? How is **any** of this possible? Monsters in the shape of people? A little girl that keeps them away? And this sky! There are whole neighbourhoods floating across it! It can't be. I must be dreaming. Maybe I'm in the middle of the sleep study with that doctor and this is all a nightmare. A scary, far too realistic nightmare, in which I don't remember who I am. God, what is wrong with me!_

The woman sighed and lowered her gaze to the sweet little girl walking by her side. Lily was clutching a doll to her chest and walking with her eyes glued to the ground, occasionally scrunching up her nose in a sniff.

 _She looks a lot like Sebastian. Same mouth, and eyebrows, same shade of hair too. I bet he will be relieved. I wish I had remembered to bring the communicator._

"Your dad is worried sick about you." The woman said, attempting a smile. "I'll make sure to bring you to him."

Lily raised her big blue eyes to her then, but instead of warmth at the mention of her father, they only showed confusion.

"My dad is dead."

The woman's smile vanished and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"He died a long time ago. My mom said so."

The woman felt something catch in her throat. Did Sebastian lie to her? He had been so warm and reliable when they met... It couldn't be. She _felt_ how worried he was about Lily, how true his love for her was. There was something fishy about the situation, but she refused to believe it was because of Sebastian.

"And... where is your mom?"

"I don't know." Lily answered, her eyes filling with tears once again. "A bad man appeared to take me away but she didn't let him. She told me to run, and that she'd come and find me. But I don't know if-"

"I'm sure she'll be here any minute then." The woman spoke, putting her smile back in place. She could feel the sudden agony that memory had brought upon Lily and she'd do anything to keep that horrible feeling away-

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course!"

-even lie.

* * *

"We're here." The woman announced as they walked across the house's front garden. "It's not much but-"

The words caught in her throat when they arrived at the door. It was closed firmly, which was strange since the woman had left slammed the door open in her rush to get to Lily. Stranger still was the photo nailed to the wood.

 _It's us hugging each other. How-?_

"You know. It's not safe to wander the streets at night. Two beautiful young ladies such as yourselves... who knows what the ill-intentioned would do to you."

The voice came from behind her. It was masculine, with a soft accent, and it was dripping with condescending amusement. It mocked them without even trying.

Lily whimpered in fear and the woman was quick to turn around and push the little girl behind her with her left hand as she raised her right hand to point her gun at the owner of that voice. She glared at the man standing not three metres away from her; his hands were up in a peace gesture but his smile was down-right predatory. And the emotions she could pick up from him... God, they chilled her to the bone.

"Back off." The woman snarled. "Or I'll shoot."

"Don't be-"

The woman shot without a second warning, with such cold blood and accuracy that she startled herself. Her bullet followed a straight line to the man's forehead.

It would've killed him instantly if he hadn't glitched out of existence just at the right moment before reappearing a bit to her right.

"Remarkable." The man breathed out, staring at the general direction of her shot, as if he could actually see where the bullet had gone to. "You never get boring, do you? I'm glad you're still you and not one of those... _things_."

The woman tensed her jaw at the familiarity in the man's voice when he addressed her, telling herself he was only trying to unsettle her with his tone, even though she could feel something almost warm coming from within him as he turned his face to smile at her. A big smile, that made the expression lines on his cheeks and eyes pop in a way that, was the occasion any different, the woman would've found absolutely lovely. She suddenly remembered enjoying immensely when people had lines on their faces; it proved they weren't afraid to express their feelings to the world.

But in this man the feelings expressed were dark and selfish, those lines were nothing more than cruelty disguised as charm.

"Run, Lily." The woman spoke, not daring to avert her gaze from the man. "Run and hide. I'll find you."

If she had looked down, she'd see Lily's blue eyes overflowing with tears as she remembered her mother saying almost those exact words to her not long ago. For one second, Lily loved this woman as much as she loved her mom and dad. And she felt the woman loved her just as intensely in return.

Lily buried her face in the woman's back, holding her tight to herself for one final moment.

Then she disappeared in the streets of Union.


	3. Chapter 3: Appropriation

**Thank you Ari Goddess of Night, SwordsgirlJackie and Guest for reviewing to last chapter! :D**

* * *

 _"You know. It's not safe to wander the streets at night. Two beautiful young ladies such as yourselves... who knows what the ill-intentioned would do to you."_

 _Lily whimpered in fear and the woman was quick to turn around and push the little girl behind her with her left hand as she raised her right hand to point her gun at the owner of that voice. She glared at the man standing not three metres away from her; his hands were up in a peace gesture but his smile was down-right predatory. And the emotions she could pick up from him... God, they chilled her to the bone._

 _"Back off." The woman snarled. "Or I'll shoot."_

 _"Don't be-"_

 _The woman shot without a second warning, with such cold blood and accuracy that she startled herself. Her bullet followed a straight line to the man's forehead._

 _It would've killed him instantly if he hadn't glitched out of existence just at the right moment before reappearing a bit to her right._

 _(...)_

 _"Run, Lily." The woman spoke, not daring to avert her gaze from the man. "Run and hide. I'll find you."_

* * *

"B-Back off." The woman repeated, this time not nearly as bravely as before. Without Lily there demanding that she be strong enough for both of them - and knowing that even a gun wasn't enough to ensure her safety - she could allow her voice, and her whole body, to tremble in fear.

The man chuckled, his one visible eye _literally_ sparkling with mirth. "Or what?"

The woman gulped. There were no threats she could make; her firearm was the only advantage she supposedly had over the purple-suited man. With him being able to so easily avoid her bullets - _how_ he did that was a question that she didn't even consider at the moment. by far not the most unbelievable thing she'd seen in the last hours - she was completely defenseless. She needed to protect the little girl, but what could she do?

 _Sebastian! I need to call him._

"Come on, tell me. I'm curious what you'll come up with." The man coaxed. "You've always been so creative."

"And how would you know?" She asked, finally lowering her gun. It was useless, for now. "I'm pretty sure we've never met before, Mister."

 _Then again, not like I'd remember._

The man's unsettling smile slowly dropped from his lips as he narrowed his one visible eye at her. The stare was even more intimidating than his mocking smile. His eye was of a unique blue, clear as a Summer sky and seemingly just as infinite. Being the sole focus of that stare felt like being watched from above, as if there was nothing she could do to escape his vision, or his intentions for her.

"You really don't remember..." He mused mostly to himself. For a moment he seemed disappointed and she suddenly felt a pang of hurt in her chest, but she didn't know if it was her emotion or his.

But then his sad look was gone and he was once again smiling widely at her.

"I guess you didn't get out unscathed from all of this in the end. But nothing that can't be fixed. You're still you in your core; I just need to add some final touches. It'll be... _delicious,_ molding you to my tastes."

Again the woman was hit by a wave of intense emotions coming from that man. Dark intent, twisted passion, perverted joy... it all came to her at once, making her feel nauseous and dizzy. Her vision tunneled and before she knew it, her weight was being supported by a pair of strong, gloved hands holding her shoulders.

"Calm down, _Anima mia_." He purred, moving one hand to her chin so he could raise her face to him. She could see his eye twinkle in fascination at the large bruise and dried blood marring her features. "I have you now."

The woman saw him close his eyes softly as he lowered his face to hers, intending to steal a kiss. She should've felt horrified - and a part of her did - but her body relaxed in the man's arms and next she knew she was kissing him back, as if following some sort of muscle memory.

An image exploded in her mind. Tangled sheets, a Polaroid camera laying on the night-stand, and a mangled eye staring down at her...

As if electrified, the woman pushed the man away from her. He just chuckled at her antics and moved in again but before he could grab her one more time she turned around and barged into the house, quickly closing the door and locking it as she had done so little time ago to bar the monsters coming after her. She had succeeded that time, but she knew this particular monster would not be deterred by that barrier if he didn't want to. Thankfully for her, he seemed to be in a playful mood and instead of barging in he just knocked softly on the wood.

"Honey, I'm home~." He sang, and then laughed at his own joke. "Won't you open the door?"

The woman started to cry then, staring at the door with fear and confusion and arousal all mixed together in a madness-inducing cocktail of emotions. What was that image? A memory of them? But... didn't she have a husband? A husband that _died_ for her?

 _What is happening?_

Her vision was starting to blur, prompting her to dry her tears in the back f her hand, and mid-way in the motion she noticed something on the floor. It was hope, in the form of a large chunk of metal with buttons.

 _The communicator!_

Quickly she dived for the communicator, taking it in her trembling hands and fumbling with it desperately. She had just managed to turn on the thing when the violent sound of pounding reached her ears, startling her into dropping the device.

"Honey! I'm getting a bit impatient here."

There was no mirth in his voice this time. She had to be quick.

 _"Miss? Is that you? Something happened?"_

 _"_ Sebastian!" She let out as she retrieved the communicator from the floor and brought it close to her mouth. "I found Lily! She's alive, but there's a man after her and-"

The door suddenly flew in an arch, slamming the opposite wall with enough strength to make a dent in it. The man in the purple suit looked as the devil himself. And he had a camera in his hands.

"Who are you talking to, love?"

There was a flash and she felt her blood froze in her veins, making it impossible for her to move a muscle. Her vision was overcame by a screen of light blue and somehow she started hearing classical music - _his favourite,_ a voice whispered inside her mind - and beyond it she also heard Sebastian on the other side of the line, screaming at her to tell him what was happening, where was Lily, who was the man - "- _SOMETHING! FOR FUCK'S SAKE JUST SAY SOMETHING!"_ \- but she could not reply. She could not move her lips, or her body, or her eyes.

She could only watch in fear as the man strut towards her and calmly removed the communicator from her frozen fingers. Not moving his piercing blue eye from her, he raised the device to his ear. At hearing the desperate man on the other line, he smiled-

" _Ciao._ "

\- and promptly turned off the communicator.

"I think I'll hold on to that, if you don't mind." The devil purred, putting the communicator away. "So... you and him, huh? Already getting bored of me?"

He grabbed her chin then, painfully hard. But still she was unable to pull away.

 _What has he done to me?_

"It's alright. I know how hard it is to keep the attention of someone such as you- such as _us_. But don't worry, I'll make you remember how much you need me."

He kissed her one more time then, this time with violence and possessiveness, as if he could shove down her throat what he wanted her to feel. Once he was satisfied, he pulled back and smiled that cocky, predatory smile of his.

"You'll never again forget the name _Stefano Valentini_."

Hearing his name made something click in her mind as it was once again assaulted by a sequence of images. One after the other, in quick succession, they guided and misled the woman, giving her multiple pieces of the puzzle that was her past but not telling her where to put them.

Those images, the horror of her reality, this man and his emotions... it all was too much for her. She blacked out.

And she dreamed.

* * *

 _"You always come here alone, and yet there's a ring on your finger. Where is your husband?"_

 _"At work. Maybe."_

 _"Maybe?"_

 _"He could also be at he the Grand Hotel with his secretary."_

 _"Ah, the most traditional affair in modern history. Tolstoy wrote that all families are unhappy in their own way, but reality proves his words wrong time and time again. All of you married people are the same. Cheating husband, unhappy wife."_

 _"..."_

 _"Why are you smiling?"_

 _"You must be very frustrated with your life if your idea of flirting is trying to crawl under someone's skin."_

 _"How presumptuous of you."_

 _"Am I wrong?"_

 _"..."_

 _"Ah, the most traditional strategy of men in **all** history. To prey upon supposedly emotionally vulnerable women. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mister. My husband may be having an affair but it doesn't make me unhappy."_

 _"Maybe not unhappy, but undoubtedly lonely. Don't deny it."_

 _"Lonely... maybe so. But aren't we all? Don't we all go around feeling a bit empty inside, looking for the one thing that we believe will fulfill us, only to do it all over again after just a little while? Isn't that why every time I come here you have a new photo to show? And so often it is a piece of gore and pain... It makes one wonder if your bachelor life is such a wonderful concept after all. Mister Valentini."_

 _"Oh, so you're of them? One of the neophyte critics who talk about of they don't understand, who criticize my work without ever, truly, seeing it. My creations are works of **beauty**. If you're incapable of appreciating it-"_

 _"I'm a fan actually."_

 _"...What?"_

 _"You're not afraid to romanticize human pain, to showcase it as something to be beholden and appreciated. Don't look so smug so soon; most often than not your photos are macabre, close to horrific. But all of that is part of being human. Despite what people preach in their well-being movements, pain and blood and **loneliness**_ _are part of life, just as joy and sunshine and love. There's no worse of better. All these emotions are beautiful in their own right, in their own time. And while it's easy to portray the good things as beautiful, it takes courage to show the bad things as such as well. And I admire you for doing that. Also, your montages are amazingly realistic. It takes a lot of talent to make it all so believable."_

 _"You... You're an artist as well, are you not?"_

 _"I like to think so, yes. Though it's been almost three years since I last put anything on display. Out there, in Krimson City, it was hard to make a living out of my artwork. People there didn't really enjoy my style much, said it was too chaotic. I painted some realistic portrayals and landscapes as well, but it was never enough to pay the bills so I had to give it all up and find other ways to make money. And here... well, I'm just an unhappy house wife."_

 _"You still create though?"_

 _"Yes. With my husband supporting me, I've had the conditions to continue painting. See? Being the wife of a cheating businessman has its perks."_

 _"Show me."_

* * *

 _Her palms were sweaty when she opened the doors to her studio. It had been too long since she last showed her work to anyone with an opinion that actually mattered. Sure, her husband would drop by sometimes to take a look at her work but she knew he only did that out of a sense of guilt and not actual interest in her work._

 _She never did understand his guilt. If he regretted cheating, why did he do it at all? She'd seen his secretary and honestly didn't believe the woman bettered her in physical appearance, and certainly not in passion between the sheets. Not that her husband would know, he never did dare anything new - **dirty** -with her, always kept the same routine. She didn't mind it too much though; she didn't choose him because of his prowess in bed, she chose him because of the way he looked and smiled at her. She chose him because she could feel how much he loved her every time they locked their gazes. He adored her and didn't attempt to hide it, and even his infidelity didn't hold a candle to such an absolute emotion. She knew she could do anything to him and he would never leave her. _

_And she enjoyed having someone to rely upon in such a manner, so she chose him. Even though she didn't quite love him._

 _She didn't regret marrying him. He was funny, smart, companionable and kind. She didn't mind his physical infidelity, as long as he never betrayed her emotionally._

 _And now it would be hypocritical of her to protest against his affair anyway, because she knew she was about to have one of her own with the man walking in front of her, perusing her art - her very **soul** \- leisurely._

 _Stefano Valentini. Former war photographer. In Krimson City he was an artist pursuing his dark muse, while taking freelance jobs as a fashion photographer on the side. She could only imagine how much of a toll it took on the prideful man, having to subject himself to the fashion industry only to pay his bills because his work didn't appeal to the masses. She understood him because she had experienced the same thing when she moved back to the US._

 _They were very similar; both artists who came to Union because they couldn't make it in Krimson City. Both humans searching for one last chance of holding onto their passions._

 _He had succeeded. Somehow people in Union were more accepting of his artistic views, as if they could feel his almost obsessive passion just by looking at his photos. Every week he had a new photo to showcase in the gallery, and while some were of a more gentle nature to appease the critics, most were true to his ambitions._

 _She had succeeded as well, though he might not see it as such. She could create her art without worries, expressing her feelings and ideas through fantastical images that were as impossible as they were realistic. Ever since arriving in Union she had managed to paint to her heart's content and that was enough for her. Certainly one day she'd want more, but now, after two years of struggling without even being able to purchase the adequate materials for her craft, this was heaven. Her own personal heaven._

 _And he was standing right in the middle of it._

 _"You like it?" She asked with a smile. She knew he did, and it made her heart beat just a little bit faster._

 _Stefano didn't reply though, his one functioning eye completely fixed on the painting in front of him._

 _It was a piece reminiscent of a painting from her time outside Union, one of the few that she had sold at a good price. Not in Krimson City, of course, but in Berlin. It was part of a collection of paintings of an area of the Tiergarten, but a different version of the gorgeous park, filled with dark hues of purple, black and gray, with silvery, ghostly figures wandering around hand in hand._

 _She remembered how proud she had been of that particular work, and how hard it was parting with it. But she was an ascending artist, fresh of the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich, and it would be madness for one in such a situation to refuse selling her craft just as it was starting to gain attention of the community._

 _Her exposition then had been a success, albeit small. And **he** had been there to witness it, taking it all in with rapid attention. He still had both of his eyes back then._

 _"I knew I had seen you before, but couldn't quite put my finger on it." He said, not moving his sharp eye from her piece. "You hair was red. Longer too."_

 _"I used to paint it." She admitted with a smile. "I'm surprised you remember."_

 _"How could I forget? I punched a man for you that day."_

 _The woman chuckled at the memory. "Yes. It was an ex-boyfriend. We had gone to Art School together in Munich, but I left for that opportunity to do my own exposition in Berlin and he did not take it very well. He had showed up and started shooting harsh critics all night to all who'd listen, saying how poor my technique was, how a child on LSD could do better work than me. I remember at one point he started to scream those insults at me in front of everyone. I was so close to bursting into tears when you marched through the crowd and took a swing at him. No explanations."_

 _"He was a fool. Sputtering nonsensical critics about your work out of pure jealousy and ignorance; he was asking for someone to put him in his place."_

 _"And so you did. It meant a lot to me, to have someone stand up and defend my work like that."_

 _"I know." Then, finally, he moved his eye from her piece and stared at her. The light blue of his eye had darkened and he was smiling charmingly at her. The lines on his face were extremely pronounced, and she found it absolutely beautiful. "You slept with me that night because of that."_

 _She stared back at him and smiled a much softer, much warmer smile._

 _"It wasn't only because of that." She whispered, laying a gentle hand on his cheek, caressing those expression lines that had charmed her in Berlin all those years ago, and still did today._

 _His mask faltered at her touch and beneath all his poise and confidence she saw a flash of recognition in the darkened blue of his eye. Both looked at each other and saw their barest and most truthful form as humans. Incomplete, searching and, in that one moment, **finding**._

 _"Prove it." He breathed out, raising his gloved hand to her face in a mimicry of her action. "Show it to me."_

 _The woman felt her heartbeat rise in a steep curve and prayed that her hands didn't start trembling. Stefano radiated a sort of raw, barely contained passion that she hadn't felt in another human being in a far too long time. Even in herself such emotion was only truly allowed to flourish in certain moments of her day; when she was painting, and when she was alone in her bed, exploring her own body in a way her husband never really attempted to._

 _Slowly she pulled the hand that was cupping her cheek down and in between their bodies so she could pull out the glove from it. The appendage was warm and moist with sweat from being confined for such a lengthy period of time but it didn't bother her. She welcomed the sensation and pulled his palm towards her, until it was nestled between her breasts, over her heartbeat._

 _She saw Stefano exhale through his mouth when he felt the accelerated rhythm of her heart and she just knew his already inflated ego was dancing in pleasure at seeing how much he was affecting her. Her heart wasn't only beating faster, it was close to bursting out of her ribcage._

 _"Is this prove enough?" She asked, lowering her gaze to his hand, tracing a couple of battlefield scars with her thumb. "I can give you more. If you want."_

 _Stefano took lead then. He pulled his hand away from her chest and grabbed the back of her thighs, hauling up her body so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clutched to him for dear life, pressing their cheeks together._

 _"Where do you want to do this?" He growled in her ear. "Your bedroom, so we can leave plenty of evidence for your husband. So that fool can see what happens when your eyes wander? Or here, right in the middle of your personal sanctuary. To imprint a memory in this space of beauty that represents your very soul?"_

 _"Here." She answered without hesitation. "Here is perfect."_

 _She felt the satisfaction radiating from the artist as he kissed her cheek and pressed her just a bit tighter to himself._

 _"Well, then. Let's make art."_

* * *

 **So, guys. As you can see there'll be smut in this fic. L-O-T-S of smut. ;)**

 **As usual I'll abide to fanfiction's rules and not post any explicit content in here. Instead I'll post a censored version of the MA-rated chapters and provide a link to the full, MA-rated chapter in AO3 for those interested in it. :)**

 **Hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you think! :D**

 **Kisses,**

 **RedVoid**


	4. Chapter 4: Expressionism

**Thank you Ari Goddes of Night for reviewing to last chapter :D**

 **This is a censored version! Full chapter can be found here:** **archiveofourown DOT org/works/13388058/chapters/32537406**

 **Enjoy! :)**

 **Expressionism: An international artistic movement in art, architecture, literature, and performance that flourished between 1905 and 1920, especially in Germany and Austria, that favored the expression of subjective emotions and experience over depictions of objective reality. Conventions of Expressionist style include distortion, exaggeration, fantasy, and vivid, jarring, violent, or dynamic application of color.**

* * *

He didn't think he could ever feel anything even remotely close to relief in his life. It was an emotion for people who _cared_ and that was not him; hadn't been him ever since he had returned from the war. Watching so many friends die - _recording_ their deaths day in and out - made one re-evaluate the value of human life.

But when he saw her alive and still herself... _Dio mio_ , if the warmth that blossomed in his chest hadn't been relief, it was a completely new sort of human emotion.

He hadn't thought of her since Theodore approached him with his promises of greatness and destruction. The pretender priest had filled his head with such wonderful visions for his art - and all in exchange of a sniveling little girl - that he forgot about everything else in favour of testing his new power.

The first thing he did was mount his Guardian. He tested how further he could bend flesh and bone to his will, how perfectly he could shape them in a mimicry of the beautiful images his imagination created, and when he was done he stared at his creation in absolute ecstasy.

She was _beautiful_.

And if he could accomplish such a work of perfection in such little time with his new powers, he could do _anything_. There would be no limits for what he'd create in this world, he could make all his dreams come true.

And so, he procceeded to shape Obscura.

His absolute masterpiece. The one he had projected months ago, the one he had attempted to mount two times without success, before Union started to fall into chaos. The one whose design and significance he had shared with his muse and confidant. The one piece of art he wished to dedicate to someone else.

And when he finally thought of that someone else his blood ran cold.

 _Anima mia, where **are** you?_

He searched for her then. Went to the mansion she shared with that excuse for a husband - a man that had been gifted a goddess to call his own and yet chose to pay homage to a dirty little harlot. He hated that place, hated to be a guest in a space his muse shared with an undeserving fool, but still he was quite looking forward to it. Union was in shambles, civility and appearance meant nothing anymore. He could finally kill that rat and claim what was - had been ever since that night in Berlin and would be until both of them were dead and then after - rightfully his.

But she wasn't there. And in her place he found only those vulgar creatures that held no intelligence or beauty of their own.

Realization hit him then. And it nearly made his heart stop.

One of those... things could've been _her_.

He could've broken down then and there and entered a whirlwind of pain and despair from which he would have never be released. He easily could have drowned himself in the humming grief that was threatening to eat away his being inside out. And if he was any other man he would have done just that.

But he was _Stefano Valentini._ He was am artist and a survivor and he would get through anything in the name of his art. And _her_.

He smiled as he thought of her.

He had yet too much to create. He had to continue. Her mind should still be connected to the Union, she still should be able to see him.

So he took a deep breath, looked to his Guardian and then to his faithful Obscura, listening to giggles and moans. He had made them for her, and he would continue.

 _I'll turn this whole city in my exposition, my love. And I'll name each and every masterpiece after you. Just you watch. I'll make you proud._

But then, as fate would have it, he found her safe and sound. For the third time in his life - in both of his lives - he found her.

And this time, he would not let her go.

* * *

 _For weeks he had watched the woman as she wandered around Unity Gallery._

 _He was the main contributor there, both in art pieces and management. As a matter of fact, only another artist in the city took interest in running the place and Stefano couldn't wait for an unfortunate accident to happen to the unappealing man and force his early retirement. His artistic tastes left a lot to be desired, to say the least._

 _But that man soon became the least of his concerns when he started to notice that woman's presence. She had been pretty enough to catch his eye the first time she appeared and now he made sure to always have her in his line of sight when she was wandering around the gallery. Staring at the art works there was her bi-weekly ritual; and watching her was his._

 _From a purely objective point of view she was very pretty, with her silky, strawberry blonde hair and eyes of a particular shade of blue that he had only seen in mirrors before. If one were to simply glance at her, they'd find their eyes following her across the room but not further. Superficially, she was caught the eye, but nothing more._

 _But Stefano had been observing her for weeks now._

 _At first because he knew he had seen her before, he just couldn't pinpoint where exactly and it was bothering him to a point of frank annoyance._ _Then, as he continued to observe her, he noticed the melancholy in her small smiles and how she kept caressing her own hands in a show of desperate self-assurance. There was something broken inside her and that vulnerability had appealed to him in an almost visceral way, transforming the pretty woman in a muse worthy pursuing._

 _Maybe even worthy turning into art._

 _If not, she'd at least make an appropriate sketch._

 _But then she responded to his taunting, baiting his words with a wisdom he couldn't ever have predicted. She had seen right through his charming persona and called him out on his not-so pure intentions. She showed him yet another hidden depth of herself and before he knew it, she had pulled him into herself and, for brief seconds, he had seen the world through her eyes. Eyes that were very similar to his own, both in colour and in vision._

 _She told him she liked his work. She showed him she **understood** his work._

 _She made him wish to understand her own._

 _And looking at her paintings, at those bright and dark pieces of fantastical reality, he realized where he had seen her before._

 _It was before his time as a war photographer. He had graduated from Politecnico di Milano a few months before and was traveling through Europe, taking pictures as he went, living here and there with the money he made selling his photos in galleries. He was living his life as a struggling artist who was still discovering himself and enjoying every second of it._

 _Back then he had been much more appreciative of the works of fellow artists, never missing an opportunity to see the exposition of beginners in the craft such as himself._

 _And it was in one of those expositions in Berlin that he was first charmed by her._

 _Her art seduced him first. It was astounding in its dichotomy; there were works of pain and pleasure, of facts and fantasy, of dusk and dawn. And they always were presented in pairs._

 _Then that ex-something showed up, jealous and mad beyond belief, spurting offensive nonsense towards the art and its creator. He had been inconvenient, stupid and vulgar all around and Stefano, having enjoyed a healthy dosage of wine, just couldn't deal with it anymore. He punched the man, taking a sick sort of pleasure in the crack of cartilage he felt beneath his knuckle and then pulled the artist away from the gaping crowd, leaving the gallery manager to deal with the outcome and the sales on her own._

 _It was the woman's turn to seduce him then, and she did so even better than her work. She explained her artistic point of view with passion and eloquence, and in return she listened to his own opinions with the sort of educated attention that only a true artist could possess._

 _They had spent the night together, and then the following day. Then the following night again. And then the next seven days and nights._

 _She had enthralled him as no one ever had before._

 _And he left._

 _He had received an invitation from an old professor to join a group of journalists in their trip to Chernobyl to take photos in celebration of the 25th anniversary of the nuclear disaster that had happened in the Soviet power plant._ _The destruction he witnessed there moved him. It was what made him volunteer to join military forces in the Middle East as a war photographer and forget - almost, never truly - everything about her._

 _Until now._

* * *

 _"Where do you want to do this?" He growled in her ear. "Your bedroom, so we can leave plenty of evidence for your husband. So that fool can see what happens when your eyes wander? Or here, right in the middle of your personal sanctuary. To imprint a memory in this space of beauty that represents your very soul?"_

 _"Here." She answered without hesitation. "Here is perfect."_

 _She felt the satisfaction radiating from the artist as he kissed her cheek and pressed her just a bit tighter to himself._

 _"Well, then. Let's make art."_

* * *

 _Now he had her laid on the floor of her atelier, naked from the waist down and moaning in adoration as he worked on her with still gloved hand. He smiled down at her and with his bare hand he loosened his tie before pulling it over his head and throwing it across the room. He hoped her husband found it._

 _The woman beneath him was close to her peak, her whole body was tensing and relaxing in delicious waves as she panted rapidly. Her eyes were wide and her pupils were blown, making the blue of her irises impossible to see. It was a beautiful sight and he only wished he had his camera with him to record it._

 _But then, just when she was about to reach her ecstasy, she dared to close her eyes and turn her face away from him._

 _"No!" Stefano snarled, grabbing her chin and pulling her face back to him. "Look at me."_

 _She opened her eyes once again and he could see them water from the pleasure he was providing her, bringing yet another feral smile to his lips. She grabbed his shoulders and dug her fingers into his flesh, trying to stabilize her body to no avail._

 _"That's right." He purred. "You look so beautiful. Like a decadent angel, fallen from Heavens and into my arms. Dio mio, the things I'll do to you."_

 _She reached her ecstasy, opening her mouth in a silent scream that despite being nothing more than a breathy moan, echoed in his very soul. Stefano burned her image into his brain then, and knew he'd have to have her again, if only to burn it in film as well._

 _Never moving his eye from her face, Stefano smiled with carnal glee, rejoicing in the glint of desire in her eyes as she looked at him and him alone._

 _But then a new sort of shine twinkled in her eyes and she raised her hand to the right side of his face all the while smiling to him the gentlest little smile._

 _It made his own smile die in his lips and next thing he knew he had grabbed her wrist with much more strength than was necessary and pulled her fingers away from the deformed half of his face before she could as much as touch his skin._

 _Her own smile died then and her eyes lost some of their shine, understanding that was his way of rejecting her attempt at intimacy. He knew she was disappointed in him, in the way he wanted to crawl all under her skin and imprint himself into her heart and soul but would not allow her even an inch of space in his. He couldn't blame her for being disappointed in him, and it honestly shouldn't matter if she were to look at him with sadness instead of adoration._

 _And yet, he found himself flipping her around so he wouldn't have to stare at her disappointment._

 _"Don't move." He growled, hastily unbuckling his leather belt._

 _"... alright." She whispered, allowing her chin to drop to her chest. "If that's what you want."_

 _"Yes. That's what I want."_

 _It wasn't. He knew it. And he knew she knew it too, but she was too above him to call him out, too emotionally mature to confront his fear of intimacy in such a vulnerable moment for both of them. She was too good for him._

* * *

 _When he was done he felt his muscles relax until he fell forward, releasing all his weight over the woman as his arms moved from her hips to her chest, embracing her with a gentleness that completely contrasted with the way he had manhandled her during sex._

 _For minutes he laid there with his eye closed_ _, feeling a peace he didn't deserve._

 _"Stefano, please get up." The woman spoke, voice soft and gentle._

 _H_ _e smiled and kissed her cheek. "Don't really want to."_

 _"...You're hurting me."_

 _Stefano's blue eye flew open and he found his face was glued to the woman's, their breaths mingling as they stared at each other, blue melding into blue. His eye was still dark with_ _the_ _aftermath of his pleasure, but hers were shining with_ _teary_ _pain._

 _Without a word, he calmly stood up and fixed his clothes, not managing to avert his eyes from he_ _r. What he saw was beautiful and all he wanted was to push her back into the floor so he could begin using her anew._

 _Only it didn't feel quite right. Not with her back turned to him, not with her eyes filled with_ _disappointment_ _._

 _"You can go."_

 _There was no bite or bitterness in the woman's voice_ _when she said those words_ _, and when Stefano looked at her_ _face_ _he found her smiling up at him as she slid her underwear and skirt up her legs. It wasn't a smile of happiness, but one of reassurance. A smile just for him._

 _Stefano fled at the sight of it._

* * *

How stupid he had been back then, so self-centered that he'd run from fate itself. They were meant to be together; she could not belong to anyone but him and he could not love anyone but her. Loving her was art in and out of itself; being with her gave him inspiration and purpose like nothing else. She fed both the man and the artist inside him. She was his muse, his passion, his love. His _Anima_.

 _I'll never let you go again._

Stefano watched the woman sleep with a smile playing on his lips. She was laying in his bed with the Core in her arms and it struck him that, in another reality, where he had stayed with her in Berlin instead of becoming a war photographer, he might've been witnessing a scene very similar to this one. Only she'd be sleeping with _their_ daughter in her arms instead of the child of that philistine.

 _A pretty possibility, but that pales in comparison with the future I'll create for us._

They'd have it all. Their art, their love... even a daughter, if she so wished.

Not one of their own, of course. They'd have to leave Union to achieve that - and that was out of question - but here was a perfectly lovely little girl, with big blue eyes not unlike his or hers. And with the power to bend this reality to their flawless tastes.

 _Tis a perfect world, this piccolo mondo we make for ourselves_.

All he had to do was get rid of Theodore. The priest was powerful even without the girl; he could pose a threat to them and Stefano would not allow that manipulative snake lay a hand on his love. No matter what, he had to go.

 _Not only him._

He still had to deal with that annoyance that had invaded their world as if he owned the place, offending Stefano's aesthetics with his mere existence.

 _The Core is mine. I have her power and I will not allow you to take it from me._

"Excuse me, _Anima mia_." The artist whispered, silently approaching the bed so he could kiss the woman's slack mouth. "I think it's time I introduced that annoying pest to my Guardian. You keep the Core safe for me. Don't worry, I'll leave Obscura here to protect you."

And smiling one last time, Stefano glitched out.

* * *

 **Hope you liked the chapter and please let me know what you think! :D**

 **Kisses,**

 **RedVoid**


	5. Chapter 5: Improvisation

**Thank you Ari Goddess of Night, sandradee27 and starrat for reviewing! :)**

* * *

 _"Excuse me, Anima mia." The artist whispered, silently approaching the bed so he could kiss the woman's slack mouth. "I think it's time I introduced that annoying pest to my Guardian. You keep the Core safe for me. Don't worry, I'll leave Obscura here to protect you."_

 _And smiling one last time, Stefano glitched out._

* * *

"Miss? Wake up, Miss."

The woman wanted nothing more than to ignore that insistent little voice calling to her, but she couldn't. There was a fear in its childish timbre that her maternal side simply could not neglect so she took a deep breathe and slowly opened her blue eyes and forced her body to sit up.

She was in a large bed, with silken sheets wrapped around her waist. The bedroom she was in was large and luxurious with scarlet drapes and mahogany furniture. It looked like...

 _It's the penthouse of the Grand Hotel. How did I get here?_

At once, the woman was assaulted by memories - both recent and old - and they brought some sort of sense to her current situation. That man - _Stefano._ _the artist._ _my lover_ \- must've locked her in here, wherever _here_ was, with the little girl. Lily, Sebastian's daughter.

Lily was sitting by her side, looking up at her with wide blue eyes, overflowing with tears. Her little hands were holding hers tightly and the woman could feel how scared the little girl was.

"Come here, Lily." The woman said, pulling the girl to her and hugging her against her chest. "Don't cry. I'm here with you and I'm not letting you go. Alright?"

"Okay." Lily answered and she just knew the little girl was holding back tears. She was so strong. "What do we do?"

The woman pulled back and smiled at Lily.

"We start walking."

What else could they do?

* * *

Stefano scowled as he watched the detective roaming City Hall. It seemed that ignorant was a bit more resilient than he had first thought; killing his Guardian was no easy deed.

 _If my beautiful Obscura was here..._

No. His masterpiece had more important things to care for. The safety of his _Anima_ and the Core took priority over putting this philistine in his place; they were the reason he was able to create so beautifully now in Union. His love was his soul, the girl was his camera and together they made for a most delightful artistic experience.

The photos he took of them sleeping were one of his best works so far, despite being so divergent of the essence of his artistic views. They looked so vulnerable, so ready to be manipulated by his capable hands... if only they weren't so valuable for him alive, he'd turn both in his greatest work yet - _ever_.

 _I can always take more pictures. I'm sure this philistine will appreciate them._

There was no small amount of bitterness in the artist's thought as he stalked the other man through the luxurious corridors. That philistine would soon reach the Stable Field Emitter and, while Stefano wasn't quite sure what that machine did, it wouldn't be good for him to have his powers affected in any way. Not only because it could interfere with his creations, but also because it could provide Theodore the advantage he needed to make his move.

That simply couldn't happen. He wouldn't allow that mind parasite anywhere near his muse, or the Core.

 _Maybe it's time I deal with this nuisance myself._

With a murderous smile on his lips, Stefano stalked inside the room with the SFE.

* * *

Despite the fact there didn't seem to be any monsters inhabiting the rooms and corridors of the Grand Hotel, the woman felt dread clench her heart in its talons. Something was terribly wrong, but she didn't know what it was.

"You're feeling it too, aren't you?"

The woman looked down at the little girl holding her hand. Her big blue eyes were staring up at her with a sort of intelligence that was well beyond her years.

"Yes." She answered honestly. Lying would not benefit any of them. "But whatever it is I'll be there to keep you safe. I promise."

Lily smiled then. "You sound like my mom."

"I'm sure she's lending me her strength right now. Even from far away, I know she's doing everything she can to find you and keep you safe." The woman spoke with conviction. "I don't know why I know that, but I do. I can _feel_ it."

"I believe you. I feel it too. My mom says we can feel things beyond what we see and it's because we're all connected. But you're the only one I've met who feels like I do. Others just have an inkling of emotions."

The woman furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Connected? You mean spiritually?"

"No. Because of The Machine. The one that brought us to Union."

The woman stopped walking then, trying to make sense of what Lily was telling her.

"What machine? I haven't entered any machines."

Lily regarded her with confusion. "That's impossible. My mom says the only reason we live in this city is because of The Machine. STEM she called it."

A sharp pain exploded in the woman's skull at hearing the machine's name , bringing her to her knees.

"Miss! Are you okay?!"

The woman shut her eyes and clenched her jaw as once again a memory made its way from the depths of her mind.

* * *

 _"Miss, are you okay? Do you feel any pain?"_

 _The woman opened her blue eyes slowly, trying to focus on the face floating above her head. It was no use, it remained a blur of colours. Light beige and deep onyx._

 _"Ah...I...wr- wee- er-"_

 _"It's okay. You may feel a little... odd. Without control of your own body. But it's a temporary side-effect of being connected to STEM for too long. Your vitals are good and so are your brainwaves. You should be perfectly fine in a few minutes."_

 _The floating head smiled reassuringly down at her, but the woman didn't feel safe in the least._

 _"Don't worry. We'll get you back to Union in a day or two. We just need to do a full check-up and some psychiatric and neurological exams to record your data for the future. Just to be extra-safe."_

 _The woman blinked slowly and when she opened her eyes again the face in front of her was no longer a blur. It instead revealed the pretty features of an Asian lady - **doctor** if the stethoscope around her neck was anything to go by. She knew that woman, but didn't quite remember her._

 _"O...kay."_

 _"See. You're already recovering your speech. Truly, you're doing great. I don't remember anyone who has adapted to STEM as well as you. Your brainwaves are always synchronized with the Core's resonance. It's truly remarkable."_

 _"Thank... you."_

 _"Oh, don't thank me. You being well is all I could ask for. Tell me, do you remember my name?"_

 _The woman hesitated for a minute, digging into her mind for the memories that belonged to the world outside Union. There, in that place where everyone walked so disconnected from each other - so disconnected from **themselves** -, she found a name for the face._

 _"Yu-ki-ko. You're... Yukiko Hoffman."_

* * *

"Miss! Please, Miss!"

The woman opened her eyes and found Lily staring down at her with tear in her big blue eyes.

"Lily, it's okay." She said, forcing her body to sit up despite the pulsing pain in her head. "I'm fine. Just... a headache."

"You... didn't hear any humming, did you? Like, a lady humming?"

The woman could feel the little girl's terror at the idea and wondered what it would have meant if she had heard humming. Lily was a sensible girl, smart beyond her years, and if something as banal as humming brought such fear into her eyes the woman couldn't help but reconsider its significance.

"No. Why, Lily?"

"I... don't know exactly how, but it means something bad is about to happen if you hear a woman humming. I overheard some conversations about it a few days ago. My mom said it was nothing for me to worry about, but now there's all these monster walking around town... I think they were people before. And that the humming turned them into... those."

The memory of the man who claimed to be her husband pulling her hand as they fled from that rotten creatures full of claws and fangs and blood-lust came to mind, now with a small detail she hadn't paid much importance back then.

 _He was... talking to himself, or something inside himself. Telling it to shut up. To stop that damn humming..._

Cold sweat sprouted all over the woman's skin, but still she managed to give Lily a trembling smile.

"I haven't heard any humming. I think I'm safe-"

 _For now at least._

"-But I did remember some things about... all this. I remembered I was being part of a research. A research to connect people's minds together. And I remember a doctor. Yukiko Hoffman."

Lily's eyes brightened at the name. "I know her! She always was there when I got tested and she was very nice. She let me have chocolate every time we saw each other, just before I was sent back here with my mom."

"...Lily."

"Yes?"

The woman regarded the little girl intensely, debating whether she should ask the questions swimming in her mind or just let them die in her subconscious-

 _How do you know all this? How long have you been in Union? Why did your mother allow you to be part of a research like that? Why do you think your father is dead? What did they **do** to you?_

-and opted for the later. Some questions were better left unanswered. Sometimes digging further only served to allow an otherwise almost closed wound to infest.

"Let's go?"

"Ok!"

The woman stood up slowly, grimacing at the pain that still remained in her skull, and both resumed walking hand in hand through the crimson-draped corridors of the Grand Hotel.

Neither heard the click of a camera coming from above them, nor the feminine moans that followed.

* * *

Stefano usually preferred working with the female form. Women were always full of _beauty_ , and it came in so many different shapes. No feminine body was quite like the other, and still they were all grace and charm with their soft curves and candid expressions. Women... they _felt_ his work from head to toe, and because of that they were perfect for his art.

 _"Grotesquery for the sake of titillation" that reporter said. Fool. She couldn't see the homage I was paying to her gender. Couldn't understand how much of an honor it is for a woman to be deemed worthy of becoming **my art**._

Men on the other hand... Stefano had a hard time finding beauty in them. Usually so gruff and unkempt, full of hard angles that just didn't appeal for his aesthetics. Also, they liked to play though, to act unfeeling, as if _art_ was little more than a silly hobby. There were a few exceptions - like himself - but still, men were mostly rough and uneducated and Stefano usually had little patience for their company, even as raw material for his art.

But this one... This callous neophyte who had no taste whatsoever had something that appealed to him. His eyes were full of feelings, his movements conveyed his despair and anger and his words were overflowing with raw emotion.

 _Anima mia... I see why you got so comfortable with him. He's so honest with himself. If only he were me, he'd be just your type of man. Maybe I'll gift him to you, piece by piece._

Stefano smiled as his knife slid deliciously in the philistine's cheek, leaving a crimson mark in its trail. This man, he might become one of his greatest works yet...

"Fear... radiates from you. It's beautiful, but not yet finished." The artist spoke. "I am Stefano and I'll not leave you unfinished. I'll turn you into an absolute masterpiece."

As those words left his lips, Stefano retrieved a photo from his pocket and raised to the intruder's eye-level. Those brown orbs almost exploded in rage at seeing the Core laying in his love's arms, completely at the mercy of the man who took her picture.

It was _marvelous_.

 _"_ The girl is with me. She's in my domain - the place you so rudely intruded upon your arrival - safe in my love's arms. Completely unharmed, so far."

Stefano could see in the man's eyes how hard he was fighting to move, to hit, to shoot, to _murder_ him. It only made the artist's smile grow wider.

"If you want to maintain her well-being, I suggest you leave that machine alone. It might destabilize my control over our reality. And who knows what kind of monster would take advantage of such a thing? The Core is safe with me, but she might not be so lucky in the hands of someone else. As I said before, there is ano-"

Then, to the artist's surprise, the little neophyte broke free from his power. Without warning of any kind the gruff man suddenly moved his arm in a speed that betrayed his solid frame and pressed the barrel of his gun against his forehead.

"Enough with your bullshit. Tell me where they are RIGHT NOW!"

Stefano debated whether he should kill this nuisance just because he managed to overcome his control, but managed to hold himself back. He was never one to do things half-way, and this particular work still had a long way to go before he could be declared finished.

"It seems you don't quite understand your place in the grand scheme of things." Stefano purred, tightening his grip on this knife just as he felt his still-field give away, allowing the SFE to resume working. "I'll make it clear to you."

He attacked then, drawing a beautiful arch with his blade towards the man's shoulder. He didn't intend to kill him just yet, but a little maiming wouldn't harm anyone. Besides the nuisance in front of him, of course.

But to the artist's surprise his knife met the metal of the handgun's barrel instead of flesh. Stefano scowled as the man in front of him tried to counter-attack with a punch, which was easily avoided by him glitching out of existence and appearing right behind his opponent.

This time Stefano didn't miss the attack and slammed the hilt of his knife mercilessly on the back of the fool's head, making him drop to the floor like a puppet without strings.

" _As I was saying-"_ the artist snarled. "-there is another who wishes her power. One with abilities not sub-pair to my own, who'd stop at nothing to have this world and all in it under his control. With the Core in my hands, I'll be able to create my art and reach the peak of my aesthetics. It's the noblest cause one could ever imagine. But him... he only wishes to control me, and you and the Core. His ambitions are vulgar, and his ways to obtain them are are violent. Trust me, there could be no better person to ensure the Core's safety than myself."

Despite the pain resonating all around his skull, Sebastian found in himself the will to roll over and shoot at the nonsensical artist. His gun exploded three times in quick succession, and all three bullets would've gone straight through that madman's forehead.

If he had not glitched out of existence just at the nick of time.

The detective cursed under his breath as he rose to his feet, never lowering his gun. The crazy artist may be able to avoid his bullets, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least try his best until the very end.

Sebastian tried to shoot the madman two more times before changing strategies. Just as the artist glitched out one last time, he grabbed his crossbow and shot his smoke bolt at the ground, right between his feet. That gave the other man pause as he regarded the seemingly harmless bolt with amusement.

"What did y-"

The bolt exploded then, involving both men in a thick, white fog. Sebastian took his chance to run out of close range and hide behind a large pillar, while the artist, true to his flamboyant character, started to pat his suit and try to rid it of any dirt. If his opponent's snarl was anything to go by, getting his pristine designer's suit dirty seemed to be the last straw for him.

"Smoke? _Really_?"

Considering how dire his situation was, Sebastian really shouldn't be rolling his eyes as far back as he was, but he couldn't help himself. This... _creature_ was too stereotypical to be real.

Warden Crossbow reloaded with a freeze bolt, Sebastian heard the telltale beeping of the SFE signalizing it was close to completion, successfully reminding the crazy artist of his reason to being here.

"No!" The man called out as he teleported to the machine. However, before he could do anything, Sebastian shot again the floor beneath his feet. The bolt exploded automatically, freezing the artist on the spot.

It lasted just long enough for the machine to complete its activation, and when the artist recovered his movements he turned to Sebastian with a snarl on his lips and an unnatural shinning in his hidden eye.

He was livid.

* * *

The woman and Lily were progressing without troubles through the corridors of the hotel and still they seemed incapable of actually getting anywhere. Every time she believed they had found the right door to leave they'd find themselves inside Stefano's bedroom again, back to square one.

"There has got to be a way out." The woman spoke, trying to convince herself. She was marching in circles around the room now, clearly stressed with the situation.

"Maybe... the exit is hidden?" Lily proposed, watching the woman go from side to side from her place, sitting cross-legged on the foot of the king-size bed. "This place, it's clearly his own creation. He could've molded it so the exit is disguised as something else."

The woman paused then, and turned to Lily with curious eyes. "Like what?"

"I... don't know." The child admitted, clearly sorrowful for not being to help more. "I'm usually able to feel this kind of things but here... it's all static for me. I can't understand what that man is thinking. I only feel a darkness coming from him, but even that is vague. His emotions and intentions... I don't know what they are. It's really scary. I've never met someone like that before."

The woman lowered her gaze to the floor, allowing herself to think back to Stefano and everything she remembered about him, from now and before. Unlike Lily, she could feel the man's emotions as if they were her own; even now when he wasn't here she could feel his presence, looming over her, breathing down her neck, slipping his fingers inside her-

A blush rose to her neck and cheeks as the woman averted her eyes from the little girl in the bed, hoping she hadn't caught up with what had just crossed her mind.

"Maybe... I can figure out where the exit is." The woman spoke in a low, embarrassed voice. "I think I knew that man before all this. Maybe if I think hard enough I can remember... something."

Lily was silent for some seconds, and she could almost hear the little girl's confused thoughts. She had most certainly picked up her conflicted emotions.

 _Thank God she's too young to understand them._

"Okay." The little girl said. "But be careful. My mom says sometimes the past is better left untouched."

"Your mother... is very wise."

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed it! Also, if you haven't seen it before do check youtube for a video of the fight with Stefano in which Sebastian uses a smoke bolt. The outraged "smoke, really?" is completely cannon and 100% funny. XD**

 **Remember that reviews are writing-fuel and help the author figure out what she's doing right or wrong ;D**

 **Kisses,**

 **RedVoid**


	6. Chapter 6: Architecture

**Thank you Grievousorvenom, starrat, SwordsgirlJackie and tanithlipsky for reviewing the last chapter! :)**

 **This chapter is a tiny bit censored. Really, just a tiny bit. But still, for those who want more explicit stuff here is the full version:** **archiveofourown DOT org/works/13388058/chapters/33996848**

* * *

 _"Maybe... I can figure out where the exit is." The woman spoke in a low, embarrassed voice. "I think I knew that man before all this. Maybe if I think hard enough I can remember... something."_

 _"Okay." The little girl said. "But be careful. My mom says sometimes the past is better left untouched."_

 _"Your mother... is very wise."_

* * *

After that conversation, Lily felt a strange emotion coming from the Woman. It was not quite guilt, but something close to it; as if she had been caught with her hand inside a cookie jar but didn't find it in herself to regret the action, only being caught. It was an emotion she had never felt in her life and as such didn't have a name for it.

"I... I think I'll lie down on his bed." The lady said, blushing furiously. "Not that I want to but... I feel a pull coming from it. Maybe I'll be closer to him there. Remember something."

Lily knew the Woman was telling the truth and agreed with what she said. There was a strange connection between her and the frightening man and if the bed symbolized it, what she said just might work.

 _But why is she so nervous a_ _bout it?_

* * *

If she was old enough, Lily would know the Woman was ashamed of herself. Ashamed because despite not remembering her relationship with the mad artist, she still felt he still had a hold on her and as she was now, laying on his bed, being enveloped by his scent... it made her feel desire run through her hot as lava.

Not an appropriate emotion to be had with an eleven year old girl inhabiting the same room.

So she shut her eyes tightly, forcing herself to ignore those sensations and try and remember something, _anything_ that could get them out of Stefano's dominion. Or at least out of his bedroom.

Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.

* * *

 _The woman had to admit she was nervous with the whole situation. After the fiasco of a few weeks ago, she never expected Stefano to show up to this event. But of course the artist had not only to make an appearance but also worm his way into her inner circle._

 _"Your wife is very talented, my friend. How could you hide such a jewel from us? Look at these paintings! They should've been exposed in our gallery a long time ago!" The artist spoke with a smile that was a tad too wide to be friendly. "I wonder how long they stayed abandoned, collecting dust in a locked room in your home, without anyone but your lovely wife to appreciate them. Such a pity..."_

 _Her husband laughed awkwardly as his eyes searched hers. She smiled and looped her arm around his, reassuring him that she didn't resent him in any way for her late debut here in Union. He may not have been as invested in her artwork or even cheered her on as she'd like, but still he always provided for her and supported her decisions regarding her art. He was far from perfect, but he was not the culprit for her late debut,_

 _"Every person has their own time, Mr Valentini." She said, trying to ease some of the tension. "It's not like my husband ever forbade me from showing my work."_

 _"Ah! But did he ever encourage you?" The artist dig further, moving a little bit closer to her. She felt the hair the back of her neck stand up at his predatory stance. "Your work is clearly precious to you. Personal, intimate, I'd say. It takes a lot for one to showcase a piece of their true self without any sort of... stimulus. And as your man, he should be there to give it to you."_

 _The blonde felt her heart beat a little bit faster as Stefano invaded all of her senses at once. His cologne, refined and musky, overpowered her husband's soft scent without struggle, his voice was like warm honey, drowning out all other sounds around her and his eye... that clear blue colour worked like a magnet to her own and she could only focus on the infinite inside it and the promises it showed her._

 _It was too much. For her and her husband. Poor man, too shocked to fully comprehend what was going on right in front of him. Unfaithful as he was, he couldn't begin to believe what was happening before him; that a man would so shamelessly flirt with a married woman, right in front of her husband. And that his wife would respond to it!_

 _"I-I think we should go." The husband stammered, gently pulling his wife's hand to break the spell that man had over her. "I saw some folk from my work. We should greet them. Thank them for coming."_

 _"Thank **them**?" Stefano echoed, narrowing his eye in outrage. "They should be taking **her** for allowing them to see her work. Don't you understand what your wife is doing here, with this exhibition? She's letting us into her very soul, showcasing her passion and feelings to friends and strangers alike. They should be honoured for being allowed to gaze into such an intimate part of her being. As should **you**." _

_The woman recoiled at the unabashed venom in the artist's voice as he almost spat his last phrase at her husband. She wondered what made Stefano so aggressive when he was the one who ran away after their tryst, not to mention how he had been avoiding her at the art gallery._

 _Yes, she noticed how he suddenly was nowhere to be seen on the days she went there to see the expositions and, it pained her to admit, every time he wasn't there she felt disappointment and sadness at being avoided by him._

 _So why was he acting like he cared now, after making painfully obvious to her that he had no interest whatsoever in pursuing their connection?_

 _"Mr Valentini, there's no need for that." She spoke firmly, pulling her husband away from the artist. "I **am** thankful for the presence of everyone. They were very kind to come here and show support. They might not be the reason I decided to do this event to showcase my art, but they are here now and that's what matters. Also, if it weren't for my husband I would never have been able to paint, let alone make my debut here in the Grand Hotel. I do have reason to be grateful to him."_

 _Her words struck the artist hard, but still he kept his dazzling smile in place, looking every bit the part of the predator he was._

 _"It seems my words offended you, my lady. For that, I apologize." Stefano purred. Then, before she could do anything, he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. He held her hand close to his lips for longer than appropriate before finally kissing the soft skin. His blue eye was staring deeply into hers, successfully putting her back under his spell. "I think I've taken enough of your time for now. Farewell, **Anima mia**."_

 _And then, he let go of her hand and quickly walked away from herself and her husband, not even sparing a nod to the dumbstruck man. She couldn't help but keep watching his back as he continued to strut through the crowd without hesitation and without looking back to her._

 _"W-What was that?" Her husband asked, gently pulling at her hand, pleading for her attention. "Do you know that man well?"_

 _"I don't believe I do, no." The woman replied slowly moving her eyes from Stefano's back and focusing on the man by her side once again. He looked almost desperate and she found it in herself to smile at him in reassurance. "Don't worry."_

 _"...Ok." Her husband agreed, even though it was clear he was not convinced. "Let's just... greet everyone."_

 _"Yes." She said, smile still in place. "I just need to drop by the restroom."_

 _"Ok."_

 _With that, she kissed his cheek and walked away. Her steps were even and her pace was unhurried. Then she turned a corner and stopped with her back against the wall._

 _Her heart was almost bursting out of her chest._

 _Crumpled in her hand was a piece of paper with a single word written in an extravagant handwriting._

 _ **Cloakroom.**_

* * *

 _She found Stefano waiting for her inside the cloakroom, his maroon coat hanging neatly with his tie, amid expensive furs and suits. The sleeves of his pristine white shirt were rolled up to his elbows allowing her to watch the muscles of his forearms flex as he undid the buttons of his shirt, one by one._

 _"Why are you doing this?" The woman asked, locking the door behind her._

 _"Because, **Anima mia-"** The artist purred, once again revealing his fangs to her as he smiled. "-I deserve to have you. Not that... **philistine**."_

 _"You ignored me." She said finding the strength to turn her gaze away from his blue eye. "For weeks you avoided me in the gallery, making yourself scarce whenever I was there. It... hurts me, to see how little I mean to you. I never expected more than sex here in Union, but still, that time in Berlin... I've always kept it in my heart. I have never connected to another person as I did with you and it meant the world to me. I thought it might've meant something for you too."_

 _The artist's smile faltered as he regarded the woman in front of him. How did she show her most vulnerable side to him so honestly, without shame fear of ridicule or rejection?_

 _That time in Berlin meant something to him as well, more than she could ever know. The time he spent with her in that city was the safe haven his mind went to almost every night when he was in the middle of war, her face in ecstasy was the image that came forth every time he witnessed the beauty of destruction, and her voice calling his name was all he heard when he was in the hospital, half delirious with the drugs they pumped into his veins._

 _The connection between them had been real. **Too** real. _

_That was why he had never searched her when he moved to Krimson City after recovering from his war injury, even though he had known she was living there too. The epiphany he had experienced in the war, the light to his artistic mission in the world... it was too important for him to risk leaving it in second plan for anything else. Even if this anything was love._

 _And yet Union had brought them together once again. Without even realizing it, he went to her like a moth drawn to a flame, and once again, he was burned. And it caused him to flee from her a second time._

 _Only this time, he regretted it._

 _He only managed one week without gazing upon her. Then, he went back to frequenting the galley during the days he knew she was there, but kept himself out of her sight. She never saw him in the last couple of weeks, but he had seen everything there was to see of her._

 _And it all brought him here this night, to the ballroom of the Grand Hotel; to be part of her grand artistic debut in Union._

 _To stake his claim over her right in front of that little man she called husband._

 _"I'm not ignoring you now." Stefano pointed out, smiling oh-so charmingly as he backed her against a wall of furs. "I'm right here. With you."_

 _The woman raised her blue eyes to his, and though they were burning just as much, she didn't return his smile._

 _"Only now?"_

 _Stefano's smile widened even more as he embraced her, pulling her body against his so he could brush his lips against her ear._

 _"Always." He breathed out, pulling down the zipper of her dress. "Always."_

 _The soft fabric fell and pooled around the woman's feet and the artist pulled back just enough so he could look down upon her almost completely naked body. And what he saw brought him to his knees._

 _"Anima mia, you're **perfect**." Stefano purred, kissing her belly, just above the line of her panties. "A goddess worth worshiping."_

 _The woman bit her bottom lip in an effort to keep quiet, but still she couldn't keep her hands from burying themselves in the artist's silken locks as he kissed her over-sensitive skin. His lips left a trail of heat all over her. Her lower abdomen, her thighs, her-_

 _"Oh!"_

 _"Hmm? What a gorgeous reaction, Anima mia. It makes me so... **fucking** hard,"_

 _The woman couldn't keep the whimper from leaving her at the dirty term Stefano used. To see the artist, always so composed, so cultured, kneeling before her, talking dirty to her... It did the most wonderful things to her body._

 _"Yes, love. I remember how you like it. No poise, no pretense, no propriety. You crave passion in its purest form and I'll give to you. I'll make you come so hard you won't even remember that man's name. My hands and my mouth on your skin will be the only thing you'll be able to think of when he dares to touch you again. If you ever come for him, you'll do so thinking of me. I'll make sure of it. I'll free you from that man, inside out."_

 _"Stefano-"_

 _"Yes. Say my name. **Only** my name. Always."_

* * *

 _"Are you alright, darling? You took so long in there."_

 _"I'm sorry. I'm just... I felt sick. My tummy."_

 _"Oh! I didn't know we could get sick in here."_

 _"Must be some manifestation of the stress. What just happened with Mr Valentini left me a bit shaken I guess."_

 _"Would you like me to take you home?"_

 _"No need. I'm sure I'll be fine. Let's go greet your friends."_

 _"Alright. But if you feel any discomfort let me know. We can always call them later."_

 _"Thanks, darling."_

 _"Of course. I'd do anything for you... I love you. You know that, right?"_

 _"I know. And it means the world to me."_

 _ **Even if I don't love you back.**_

* * *

The woman opened her eyes slowly, feeling a couple of tears streak down her cheeks as she did so. She felt horrible at betraying her husband like that.

She felt even worse at not doing it sooner.

 _I'm in love with him. I'm completely in love with that mad, dangerous artist._

"Miss? Are you okay?"

The woman blinked a couple of times, allowing her brain to surface from the depths of her memories and the intense emotions they carried. She was in Stefano's bedroom, laying in his bed, with Lily by her side.

Union fell into chaos and there were... zombies wandering the streets. Zombies that were once her friends. Friends that were now lost to the world.

 _Okay? No. Not at all._

"Yes, Lily. Don't worry about me." She reassured as she sat up on the bed. "And I think I know where we might find our exit."

"Really?!" The little girl asked with a large smile. "That's great!"

"Well... I said **might**." The woman put in, smiling awkwardly. "It's mostly a guess really."

"It's better than nothing. Which reminds me-" The woman watched the little girl run to get something from the bedside table and her blue eyes widened when she saw what exactly it was. "-I was exploring this room and found this big phone in a safe inside the closet. It's not working in here, but maybe when we get outside?"

"That's amazing, Lily!" The woman exclaimed. "But how did you know the combination to the safe?"

"Well..."

"Yes?"

"When you laid down in the bed I saw you had some numbers written behind your left ear. I tried them as the combination and it worked."

The woman could practically feel her heart stop beating inside her chest. Her hand rose automatically the soft skin behind her ear, caressing the numbers she hadn't known were tattooed there.

"And... what numbers were those?" She asked, voice trembling.

The little girl stared up at her with concern, but instead of asking what was wrong as she dreaded she would, she just answered her question.

"14. 04. 11. With slashes between them."

 _14\. 04. 11. Fourteen. Zero four. Eleven. 14/04/11. April Fourteen of 2011. It's... the day we first met._

"Miss? Are you okay? You're pale."

"I-I'm okay, Lily." She lied. "Let's keep going shall we?"

"Are you sure? We can rest a bit more."

"I'm okay, really. Here, give me the communicator so I can hang it on one of my jeans' loops. This way we can carry it with us without too much trouble."

"Here." Lily handed her the communicator, still looking at her as if she thought she'd faint at any moment.

She took the device in silence and offered the little girl her hand, which she promptly took.

Hand in hand with each other and a heavy silence, they went down the stairs.

To the cloakroom.

* * *

Both went downstairs to the lobby as they had done at least five times in the last hour or so, but instead of trying to go through the extravagant double doors that should lead to the exit, they turned towards the equally extravagant doors that led to the ballroom.

The place, like the rest of the hotel, was full of scarlet drapes hanging from the ceiling.

"Oh! There it is!" Lily exclaimed, pointing at a small door just in the corner of the room. "The cloakroom."

The woman felt anxious as both walked hand in hand towards the unassuming door. There was absolutely nothing that reassured her that the room in her memory was a way out of this maze of crimson curtains and lavish furniture, but it was the only thing they had right now. Hopefully it would lead them out to safety-

 _Sebastian._

 _-_ and not a place more dangerous than the one they were currently wandering.

They were near the door now. All the woman had to do was stretch her arm, grab the doorknob and turn it. But then...

 _Ah-ahhhhh._

"Lily... are you hearing this?"

* * *

Lily raised her eyes to the woman standing by her side, with that gleaming, rounded doorknob in the palm of her hand. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and her blue eyes were shut tightly as she tried hard to listen to their surroundings. The little girl wasn't sure what she meant by that - she hadn't heard anything - but still she imitated the woman and shut her eyes, trying hard to focus on her hearing.

This time she heard something. It seemed like the sort of sound that would come from a woman, something like the humming that she dreaded so much, but not quite. Lily didn't quite had a word for what she was hearing, didn't quite understand what it was, but still she felt her cheeks burn in something like embarrassment. That sound was... dirty.

"I-It's coming from the ceiling?!" The woman exclaimed suddenly, pulling Lily against herself and retreating from the door quickly as she raised wide eyes to the spot on the ceiling directly above the place they had been occupying. Lily could feel sudden fear coming from her.

Surely enough, a... monster was slowly lowered from the ceiling. And the better Lily could see it, the better she could hear those sounds.

The monster was just terrifying. It was tall, large, _twisted_.

Now even more scared than the woman, Lily clutched to the back of her thin sweater as she stared at the creature in absolute horror.

It had three huge feminine legs, a torso that was unnaturally bent backwards, thrusting its bare chest in the air as it held its own head with thin arms. And the head... it was not even a real woman's head, but a super old-fashioned camera dirty with dried blood, held steady by a pair of skinny arms sprouting sharp pieces of rusty metal all over.

"Lily, stay behind me." The woman warned, pushing the little girl further back. "And when I say run, you go to the door. If it's a way out, you keep going. If not, you stay inside and lock the door and don't open it until I say is okay."

"B-But, what about-"

"I'll be fine. Please just do as I say."

The little girl felt tears streak down her face for what felt like the hundredth time in just as many minutes. She didn't want to leave the woman again. She had a feeling that something horrible would happen if she did.

"Lily! Promise me you'll run!"

Lily stared up at the woman's terrified eyes who tried so hard to appear brave for her. She couldn't let her down.

"I-I promise."

She'd run, but she'd come back with help.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! And as always please let me know what you think about it and the characters :D**

 **Kisses,**

 **RedVoid**


	7. Chapter 7: Bauhaus

**Hi guys! I'm still alive!**

 **So sorry about the delay, but it's been hard to write for both of my fics lately due to being super busy and tired and lacking overall inspiration... T.T**

 **Also, the Far Cry 5 fever has dragged me into doesn't help. AT ALL.**

 **Anyways, thank you starrat, Grieveousorvenom, SwordsgirlJackie and tanithlipsky for reviewing to last chapter! :D I hope next one won't take so long but I can't make any promises...**

 **Also this is another slightly censored chapter. Full version here:** **archiveofourown DOT org/works/13388058/chapters/35547477**

 **Hope you all enjoy! :D**

 **Bauhaus: The school of art and design founded in Germany by Walter Gropius in 1919, and shut down by the Nazis in 1933. The faculty brought together artists, architects, and designers, and developed an experimental pedagogy that focused on materials and functions rather than traditional art school methodologies. (from MoMA's Glossary of Art)**

* * *

 _They were near the door now. All the woman had to do was stretch her arm, grab the doorknob and turn it. But then..._

 _Ah-ahhhhh._

 _"Lily... are you hearing this?"_

* * *

The woman observed the monster in front of her with wide, unbelieving eyes. She had seen that creature before, she recognized every little detail of it.

Stefano had shown it to her.

* * *

 _"You mentioned you had a new project to show me. So... Where is it?"_

 _The artist chuckled and she could feel the sound reverberate through her whole body. Not only because she was half sprawled on top of him, both naked as the day they were born, but also because of the warmth the sound carried. It was rare to for artist to feel - let alone show - such easy-going enjoyment of himself and being there for those moments always warmed her insides. She liked the idea of being partially responsible for the carefree happiness of the otherwise composed artist._

 _"Eager, are we?"_

 _She pushed back from his chest, until she was sitting up astride his hips, smiling down at him._

 _"Always. I love seeing your work. I love how much passion and dedication you put in to it. But what I love the most is how much you love sharing it with me."_

 _Stefano smiled at her with honest and unbidden adoration. Without words, he pulled one of her hands to his lips and kissed her palm._

 _"Anima mia. Sometimes I think you were created just for me."_

 _The woman smiled, moving her hand from his mouth to his bangs. Gently she combed his hair back, settling it behind his ear so she could look at his face. There was something in the artist that wanted to protest her actions, that still wasn't comfortable with revealing his damaged eye to her, but he didn't hold her back anymore. Before, he'd pull her hand away from him every time she tried to look at the right side of his face; once he even bandaged it so she could push his hair back without gazing upon the damaged eye there._

 _But now he let her do as she pleased, he trusted her enough to see this part of him - the part he deemed ugly -, even if he didn't appreciate it all that much. And it made her heart soar._

 _"Sometimes I think the same about you." She admitted, lowering herself to lavish the right half of his face with kisses. She felt his hands settle around her hips and smiled. "I thought you were going to show me your new project?"_

 _"I will." Stefano reassured. "Grab my sketchbook on the night stand."_

 _The woman did as she was told, raising her body away from his as she stretched to the side. Gently she cradled the notebook in her hands and then made to move back to her position_ _._

 _"Come on, Stefano." She teased. "Show it to me."_

 _He snarled, showing his fangs as he took the sketchbook from her hands and opened it in the correct page. With one hand he held the image to his chest, allowing her to see his latest creation, with the other he held her waist._

 _"This is Obscura. My beautiful, absolute masterpiece." He announced with aplomb. "I designed her here in this bed. With you sleeping right beside me. With my essence dripping from between your legs. She is you and my art put together. My soul and my passion made concrete. My two reasons to keep living, merged into one."_

 _"Stefano..." The woman spoke, reaching out to hold on his shoulders. Her blue eyes were watery with emotion and she couldn't help the next words that left her lips. "I... I love you."_

 _The man's eye widened at her admission and for a moment she feared he'd push her away and flee from her one more time._

 _Instead he let his sketchbook fall down between their bodies as he freed his hand to grab the back of her neck and pull her into a possessive, passionate kiss._

 _"Say it again." He snarled against her lips._

 _"I love you."_

 _"I love you."_

 _" **I love y-Ahh!"**_

* * *

"Ah-Hmmm!"

The woman watched stunned as Obscura moaned and creeped towards her, moving her three legs in a clumsy, slow manner as her camera moved up and down, side to side, rotating left and right, as if the creature was examining her in all possible manners, trying to find her best angle.

It made her want to hide her face.

She tried to figure out how she could feel such horror at the materialization of an idea she had found so beautiful before. She had **loved** Obscura and what she meant, admired the details put in that realistic sketch, and awed at the passion with which Stefano spoke of his masterpiece. During and after their lovemaking.

But now she could only feel horror. The materials used to mount this Obscura weren't marble, or clay or customized mannequin parts. Oh no. The Obscura in front of her - Stefano's Obscura - was made of flesh and bones and thick, sharp coil. It was madness, apathy and narcissism merged together in the cruelest form she could imagine.

In a way it was tragically beautiful.

"Lily-" The woman said, pushing Lily behind her as she slowly stepped back from the advancing creature. "-when I say go you run around her. Make an arch, leave a good distance between the two of you and when you see that she's focusing on me you go straight to the door. Alright?"

"O-Ok."

"Ahhhh! AH! **AHHHH!"**

Obscura seemed to understand their plotting and started to grow agitated, moving her legs with more velocity towards them as metal appendages sprouted from her back.

The sudden movement startled the woman enough to make her turn her back to Obscura to run in the opposite direction, pulling Lily with her by the hand.

That, in turn, only spurned the creature on. Obscura was quick to break in a clumsy trot as she pursued the woman. But the latter was faster and there were many drapes scattered around the room, making it easy for her to pull Lily along and hide so they could escape the sights of the work of art.

Safe for now, the woman knelt in front of Lily. The little girl already had tears tracks on her cheeks, and her eyes - so blue, so wide, so scared - were already preparing a new batch of them. It pulled at the woman's heartstrings and all she wanted to do was hug and comfort the child.

 _Not now._

"Be brave, Lily." She said instead. "It'll be over soon. Now go."

And with those parting words she let go of the little girl's hand and walked away.

"Obscura!" She yelled, even if she could not see her. "I'm right here! Come and get me!"

In an obscure corner of the room, she could hear moaning and shuffling feet.

And the sounds were approaching fast.

* * *

"Son of a bitch!"

Stefano yelled at the insufferable fool in front of him, gripping his knife as tight as possible in his hand.

The artist rarely felt rage such as this. Distaste, disgust, disdain were all very common emotions for him when dealing with the many simpletons that populated the world, but actual burning anger was an emotion he had only remembered feeling twice in his lifetime.

First when that Phi _stronza_ wrote that offensive and ridiculous review on his art, denigrating his work without shame or remorse.

The second time was in Union, during the period he had been avoiding his love, but still watching her every move, photographing every sad smile she gave to the universe and feeling her hand on his every time she gently rubbed her hands together.

* * *

 _On the beginning he had managed to contain himself, and only watched her on the days she visited the gallery. But it was only a matter of days before he found himself stalking her around the streets of Union as well, taking pictures of her day-to-day life until he had enough to create a movie about her. She was so lovely, doing mundane chores as if she wasn't a goddess walking among vile creatures. Always graceful in her movements, always smiling at strangers, always so full of beauty..._

 _Beauty that was touched and used by another._

 _Stalking his prey wasn't only satisfaction. Stefano also had to watch that little man touch and smile at her freely, even though he was far undeserving of even sharing the air she breathed. And it made jealousy bubble in his insides. Worse still was watching her smile back, enjoying his attentions even though she knew he wasn't right for her._

 _The first time he saw them together was by chance. He was walking around the park with a sketchbook under his arm, trying to allow his mind to wander far enough from the Woman so he could plan his next masterpiece. He was far from succeeding, for everything around him was perfect, and perfection always made him think of **her**._

 _Then, to his utmost anguish, he saw his obsession walk right in front of him, arm in arm with her husband, not even noticing him some feet behind her. Both were disgustingly radiant as they strolled around the park, enjoying the warm sunlight that was so constant inside Union. For the first time the artist found himself hating something in this city; he wished this god damned weather would just close and pour down on the couple in front of him._

 _But at the time he had no power over Union and could only watch as they strolled around the park together, oblivious to the artist following them with white hot rage bubbling inside his chest._

 _And he watched them go everywhere that day, even inside their own bedroom._

* * *

 _During his time in the Middle East Stefano had trained and developed his physical strength. It took a lot of him to accompany the soldiers in their marches and battles, carrying all his photograph equipment nonetheless so he always had to be in his best physical form. And after he returned he felt it would be too much of a waste not to dedicate sometime to the gym in order to keep his body in top performance, so he was rather adept to physical efforts, despite his artistic profession suggesting otherwise in terms of stereotypes._

 _So it was no hassle for the artist to climb up to the rooftops of the empty home just across the street from the Woman's residency; the windows offered perfect support for him. And from that very rooftop, with the help of his trusted camera's lens, he had a perfect view into his love's bedroom._

 _And there she was, naked and beautiful._

 _Beneath another man._

 _Stefano watched and photographed his love with fervor, feeling hate like no other grow inside him at every sad expression he captured in her face while that philistine moved inside her. She knew as much as he did that she didn't belong with that pathetic little man and it showed in their lovemaking-_

 _ **If I can even call it lovemaking. There's no love there, only... acceptance. Oh, Anima mia, just you wait for me. I'll free you from this torture.**_

 _-She looked as if she had given up ever enjoying herself with that man, as if blessing him with her body was nothing more than her obligation towards him. And it made Stefano livid to see his goddess being taken for granted by such a mundane creature._

 _It was the very first time Stefano plotted a murder for the sake of something other than his art. And while he might not have had the chance to kill that man himself, he had been more than ready to do it if the opportunity had presented itself._

* * *

And now, he felt this all-consuming need to end another's life once again. All because yet another stupid man dared to play with something that wasn't his to play with.

"I've had enough of you!" The artist yelled out, undoing the button of his blazer as he pointed his knife at the annoyance in front of him. "Prepare to _die_!"

He ran at the man then, slashing an arch in the air with his blade, but to his surprise he avoided his attack, side-stepping at the last moment as he threw his crossbow to the ground and reached over his shoulder to retrieve his shotgun.

"No, you don't!" Stefano screamed, tackling his enemy to the ground.

This time the artist was successful and both fell to the floor, with the attacker on top, with one of his knees digging into his victim's stomach.

Stefano wasted no time in rotating the knife in his hand, so he had a reverse grip on it, and bringing it down to the man's face. But the later tilted his head just in time and the blade pierced the floor instead.

To add insult to injury the man grabbed the artist's lapels and pulled him down with violence, headbutting him. The blow stunned Stefano and his opponent took the opportunity to roll them over so his positions were reverted and he was on top. He raised his fist for a punch, but the artist was quicker and pulled his leg back so he could plant his foot on the man's chest and kick him away from him.

"Stop fighting!" Stefano snarled as he got back to his feet.

"As if!" The other man yelled, finally managing to pull his shotgun from its holster. "Not until you give me Lily!"

"The Core is mine!"

The man scoffed as he aimed his weapon. "Over my dead body."

"That-" Stefano began, clenching fists in rage. "- **will** be arranged."

Both men stared at each other for seemingly endless moments, waiting for the perfect moment to act.

But then the doors to the room were slammed open as Obscura dashed into the room, moaning loudly and desperately, stunning both men into forgetting each other for a short-lived moment. Stefano was at loss as he watched his masterpiece running all around the room with flailing steps, completely out of control,. Her skin was singed in many different places.

Stefano didn't know what it was, but he knew something terrible had happened.


End file.
